


Unexpected Rewards

by Goddess47



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, Sentinel/Guide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5490296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goddess47/pseuds/Goddess47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All John Sheppard knew was that you never turned down a request from General Jack O'Neill. What he didn't know was that O'Neill was involved in more than rescuing kidnapped Guides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Rewards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outsideth3box](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outsideth3box/gifts).



> Late writer is late, many thanks to patient mods and an even more patient **outsideth3box** who has been waiting since the first of the month for her story. You asked for Sentinel fic and I hope you enjoy this!

The scent hit John hard. _DistressDistressDistress_ Somewhere, not far from here, a Guide was in trouble.

He had no choice but to follow it. His Sentinel instincts kicked in hard and fast, and he was moving even faster. He followed the scent into the building, up the stairs to the third floor.

There! In that room! The scent of distress was coming from there. 

John paused for a moment to listen, but only heard one sluggish heartbeat, before he stormed through the door. A sharp pain in John's arm had him looking down at the dart sticking out but, before he could react, the blackness took over.

There were moments where John thought he was conscious, but they were fleeting. He gradually became aware of a dim room, and an uncomfortable bed. When he tried to move, he realized he was tied down.

"Ah! Awake! Good!" A voice he could not see. Male. Most likely trained, since there was no accent. John listened for a heartbeat but when he didn't find one in close proximity, he assumed the speaker was in another room and watching him over a camera.

He waited for more. That gave him a chance to listen for electronic signals and found two in front of him and two behind, where he couldn't see. More cameras.

John waited. He couldn't tell how long he had been wherever _here_ was, but he suspected at least one day. He looked down to see he was 'dressed' in a hospital gown and the tubing snaking out from the bottom hem that he could see meant they had a catheter in him. That was more than a nuisance. But it was done professionally and by someone who knew Sentinels, since it wasn't bothering him.

John relaxed, trying to see what else he could figure out. The room temperature was reasonably warm, since he wasn't chilled dispute the lack of clothing. The air must be recycled and filtered, since the scents in the room were mostly of him. The bed he was lying on had a thin mattress covered with a quality cotton sheet.

Hmmm... someone knew what they were doing, they had make the room as Sentinel neutral as possible.

"Welcome to our little corner of the world," the voice went on. "If you are at all uncomfortable, please let us know and we will do what we can."

"You could untie me," John suggested. "That would make it better."

"Ah! Sorry, about that," the voice smirked. "That's one thing we won't be doing."

John shrugged. He had figured as much. 

"Oh, and I might as well tell you that this room is shielded," the voice added. "Your tracking device was quite clever, but we've taken that out of you."

John forced himself to react only minimally to that taunt. The tracker had been there as an alternative option. If it had worked, it would speed things up. Now they'd be forced to Plan B.

John took a breath and relaxed. He took stock of himself at that point. He had to avoid zoning out, but he needed to catalog what had been done to him as best he could. 

There was a port carefully inserted in his left arm. He suspected they had taken blood a few times. There was a small scrape on the inside of his mouth, indicating a probably DNA sample. A bandaged over cut on his right leg was a probably tissue sample. The tracker had been in his lower back, and there was a bandage there.

Standard bio samples, then, John knew. Not surprising. 

"Any chance I can get some coffee? And something to read?" John asked. 

"I'll have someone bring you some water shortly," the voice replied. 

John sighed loudly. "Really? Water? How trite!"

There was no reply to that.

John figured it was about an hour before anyone came into the room. The person was dressed in a haz-mat suit, and wore a surgical mask to prevent John from being able to see facial features. Male, by the build and what John could see around the mask. Tall and broad shouldered, although the suit hid anything more than that.

The person held out a plain sports bottle with a straw. John sucked greedily on the water, realizing he was thirsty. There was no taste to the water, which meant it had been bottled and didn't come from a tap.

John paused in his drinking for a moment, to allow himself a chance to breathe. As the person started to back away from the bed, John said, "Wait. More?"

The bottle was silently held out to him and John drank a few more mouthfuls.

"Thanks!" John said, automatically.

The person backed away from him, and backed out the door.

That was interesting, John thought. They wouldn't turn their back on even a restrained, captive Sentinel.

John dozed -- natural sleep this time -- mostly because he was bored. He had learned a long time ago that a light doze let him keep aware without zoning. Fighting to stay awake usually led to focusing on his surroundings to the point he'd zone. He suspected his captors were hoping for a zone-out so they could do whatever they were planning to do next.

A couple hours later, the same person came in while a second person, also in a similar haz-mat suit, stood by the door. The first person came around to John's left side, accessed the port in John's arm, and took three vials of blood.

"Hey! Leave me some of that!" John protested. "I'm using it!"

There was no response, not that John really expected one. 

The second person stood on guard at the door as the person who took the blood backed away from John.

John realized that this had been going on long enough that whoever was capturing Sentinels had probably learned the hard way to extremely cautious.

John dozed some more, to pass time. He wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious, but he had been here – wherever 'here' was – for about twenty hours at this point. Even with a minimal time spent unconscious, he had been missing for at least a day.

The building shaking work him up from his latest doze. John could smell the cordite undertone to the dust that circulated in he room, and lay back to wait.

"SHEPPARD!" A voice called at a distance.

"HERE!" John called back.

There was some muffled gunfire, but it wasn't long before the voice called again. "SHEPPARD?"

"In here," John replied. He knew they were nearby at this point.

"You near the door?" The voice asked.

"No. Across the room, to your left." John replied.

"Okay, dial down, small boom." 

John dialed down his hearing and squinted his eyes as the door to the room blew open. A controlled charge on the handle and hinges had taken it down nicely.

"You are a pain in the ass," Jack O'Neill groused. "Laying around while the rest of us do the hard work."

"Kind of tied up," John protested automatically.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," O'Neill shot back. "Bates, get him up. Carter, look for any electronics."

John had been introduced to Dr. Sam Carter as part of the mission briefings, and she had downplayed her role as 'just a scientist.' Here, she looked the part of the soldier John suspected she was. Being a Guide to General Jack O'Neill implied she was more than capable in the field. 

One of the men with O'Neill came forward toward the gurney. He frowned at the restraints that were holding John to the bed.

"Catheter," John warned them. "Don't think there's anything else. The port in my arm is benign and can be removed later, if we're in a hurry."

"Got it," O'Neill replied. He tapped his radio. "We have Sheppard, need a medic."

"Coming!" The radio came back. 

"Have you out of there in a jiffy," O'Neill promised as he watched the door to the room.

"Cameras on all four corners," John reported to Sam Carter as she swept the room. 

"Got those," she reported. "Most of the rest of this looks pretty standard."

John wanted to ask questions, but knew that the middle of a rescue operation wasn't really the best time for those. Especially since he was the one being rescued.

"Doc's here." A voice from outside the room called.

"Send her in," O'Neill replied.

Dr. Carolyn Lam hurried into the room wearing a flak jacket and a small backpack. She took off the backpack near the foot of the bed and placed it on the floor.

"What do you need?" she asked John.

"Catheter," John nodded toward his lap. "Don't think there's anything else, but would rather have you do that than Sargent Bates. Also, a port in my left arm, but that's up to you."

"Greatly appreciated, sir," Bates replied as he finally got John's left arm freed from the restraints.

"Problems?" O'Neill asked, peering over John at the now dangling restraint.

"There are wires, I'd rather not find out what they do," Bates replied. Carter came over to check them out.

"Explosives?" O'Neill demanded, frowning and taking a breath to see if he could figure that out for himself.

"Pretty sure not," Bates replied. "I think it's a bio measurement system, based on the pads on the inside of the cuff. But don't want to take any chances."

"Doc, do your thing and get out of here," O'Neill directed. "Leave the port for later, if you can."

Lam had been checking out the catheter and looked up at him. "Hang on," she directed.

John felt the uncomfortable pull of the catheter being taken out. She looked at the port in his elbow. "This can wait until we get you out of here." She quickly but carefully finished looking John over. 

"Can you walk?" O'Neill asked.

"They've been taking blood regularly," John admitted. "Maybe. And only if you have something I can wear."

"Clothes we have," Lam said, taking a set of scrubs out of her pack and handing them to John. 

"Doc, go," O'Neill commanded. She left the room, one of the other soldiers following her out.

Bates finally released all the restraints and John sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He waited a moment to ensure there was no dizziness and then eased himself to a standing position.

"Okay?" O'Neill asked.

"Think so," John replied, reaching for the scrubs, taking off the gown he had on and pulling the top over his head.

"Let's get our asses of here, then," O'Neill said.

John pulled the pants over his feet and then stood. 

"Ground should be relatively clear," O'Neill looked at John's bare feet.

"I'll manage," John said. He dialed down his sense of feel for the moment. "Slippers that don't fit are worse."

"Bates, on our six. Carter, take point." O'Neill commanded. He tapped on the radio. "We're coming out."

"Roger that. Team two has found three other captives and is on their way out," the radio reported. 

John looked up at that, then held his questions. He's learn more when O'Neill knew anything.

"Okay, let's blow this pop stand," O'Neill said. "Sheppard, stay close to me."

"Yes, sir," John replied.

Their exit from the building was faintly anti-climatic. No one stopped them and the corridors were empty of anyone but SGC teams. John was hustled into the back of an SUV and driven away from the building.

"Denver? Really?" John asked as he recognized the road signs.

"Yes, sir," Matias answered from the front passenger seat. John didn't recognize the SF driving the SUV. "There's a blanket and a pillow back there, if you want to take a nap. Have a couple hour drive ahead of us."

John spotted the blanket on the floor and grabbed it. "Thanks," he replied.

"I'll wake you when we're about twenty minutes out," Matias promised. 

_Twenty minutes out from what?_ John wondered idly. He wrapped the blanket around himself and settled in for a nap. Somehow, the back seat of the SUV was more comfortable than the gurney he had been on and he fell asleep.

"Sir? We're almost there," Matias announced softly.

John woke groggily, surprised at how deeply he had slept.

"There's some bottled water in the space in back of you," Matias said. "And some energy bars."

"Thanks," John replied. He sat still for a bit, just checking his levels and his overall condition. He'd like to piss, but could wait. He twisted around to find the water and food, grabbing a energy bar from the open box. 

_Blueberry_ Not his favorite, but it would do at this point. He unwrapped the bar and took a bite. He alternated between the water and the energy bar and had finished both by the time the vehicle approached a gate.

John was startled to see they were at Cheyenne Mountain. He had figured they were going to Peterson, where he had been meeting with O'Neill and his staff about this operation. The SUV rolled up to the gate, Matias leaned across the driver and handed the guard some papers. The guard looked at the papers, looked carefully at John, and flagged them through. 

They drove up to another guard station.

"They'll take care of you from here," Matias announced. "General O'Neill will catch up to you when he can."

"Thanks for the lift," John replied.

Matias held the door as John got out, threw him a quick salute and got back into the SUV. 

"Sir?" the guard said. "If you'd come with me?"

John trudged down a corridor behind the guard, everything starting to catch up to him. He could go longer in an emergency, but the adrenaline kick back wouldn't be worth it just now.

"Hope this isn't far," John said tiredly. "Been a long day. Days. Actually, I don't know how long it's been."

The guard looked at John carefully and said, "I think maybe they should come to you..."

"Good idea," John murmured. "I'd like to sit down now."

John heard a startled curse as he faded out.

Waking this time was to a comfortable bed and dim lights. It was an infirmary, but at least a Sentinel friendly room. John had been in too many of them.

Must be another Sentinel listening, since there was a tap at the door just before Dr. Lam came in.

"Awake! Good!" she said. "How are you doing?"

"Better, now," John said. "I guess I needed more sleep."

She came closer, looking at the tablet in her hand. "How are your levels?"

John took a deep breath and ran through a basic bio check. He must have really been out, someone had already removed the port from his elbow.

"Good, actually," John answered. 

"Some natural sleep is probably what you needed," Lam replied making notes on the tablet. "I'll have some lunch brought in, you're probably hungry."

"I could eat," John admitted.

"Your weight is down and you're slightly dehydrated," Lam pointed out. "Eat everything on the tray, and then at least a decent snack every two hours."

"Yes, ma'am," John sighed. His weight was always a concern to the docs. He had always been skinny, but coming online as a Sentinel ramped up his already active metabolism. On the other hand, he got to eat whatever he wanted...

An orderly brought lunch, then two different afternoon snacks before a second orderly brought dinner. At least there was ice cream after dinner and a late evening plate of cheese and crackers. The regular meals helped John keep track of time. Being underground, there was no external cues and it could be 2 AM or 2 PM for all he knew.

O'Neill showed up the next day.

"They treating you okay?" O'Neill asked. "We need to keep you for a few more days, so I've had Walter let your command know where you were."

"Good enough," John agreed. "Any chance I can get out of here? And get some clothes?"

"Some of that's up to the doc," O'Neill replied. "But we can rustle up some sweats, if that's okay. But, well, most of this is classified beyond what you're cleared for. So you're going to be pretty limited to where you can go."

"Someplace that's not the infirmary and where I can do some walking would be good," John negotiated. Some exercise would be good, even if he couldn't get to a gym.

"That we can probably do," O'Neill agreed. "Good job hanging in until we could get to you."

John shrugged. "Didn't do much beyond letting myself get captured and then lying in a bed."

"We got most of what we needed," O'Neill replied. "We rescued several Guides and we have enough of their research to see who was pulling the strings."

"Good to know," John said.

"Someone will get you to some living quarters, but they won't be much since we're tight on space down here," O'Neill offered. "They'll probably set you up with computer access so you can write your after action report."

"Got captured, got rescued," John grinned. "That's about it."

O'Neill waved a finger at him. "They won't let me get away with that, so you can't either..."

"Got it," John replied with a shrug.

O'Neill obviously considered for a moment, then took something out of a pocket. He tossed it at John, who looked at a white, blank cube curiously.

"Think _on_ at it," O'Neill directed.

The cube glowed bright white, almost a blinding light.

"Okay, that's what I thought," O'Neill seemed happy about whatever just happened. "Think _off_."

The light went out, and the cube sat innocuously in John's hand.

"What was that?" John demanded.

"Something I'm not ready to explain," O'Neill replied. He held up a hand at John's automatic protest. "Later, I promise!"

"Okay," John answered. _Later_ could be ten years from now, but from O'Neill's reaction, John figured it would be relatively soon.

The next day, after breakfast, the orderly brought John some generic underwear and sweats. Lam cleared John to move to living quarters but set up daily check ins and made him promise to eat every two hours for at least the next two days.

Once in the living quarters, John took a long, hot shower, scrubbing off the chemicals and medicinal smells that seemed embedded in his skin. The miniscule bathroom had Sentinel friendly soaps and personal products, so someone knew how to manage Sentinels.

After lunch, a technician showed up with a laptop and login information. "You can get a secure connection to the Internet with this, but you're not on the base network. Don't do stupid."

"No porn!" John grinned, and the tech grinned back at him.

John was still poking at his report the next day, when there was a brief rap at the door of his room.

"Sheppard, was hoping you could do us a favor?" O'Neill asked, standing in the doorway.

John frowned. O'Neill wasn't always one to _ask_ as much drag you along until you figured out what he really wanted.

"Ummm... sure?" John hesitated.

"We have one Guide that we've identified but he's still comatose," O'Neill went on. "Lam can't find any physical reason for it, so we figure it's a Guide thing. It's unusual but not unknown. Carter can't get through to him, either."

"And you think I can help with that?" John asked.

O'Neill shrugged. "Can't make it any worse, we don't think," he replied.

"What do you need me to do?" John asked.

"The thinking is that he doesn't know if he's safe or not, and maybe enough Sentinels talking to him will convince him it's safe to surface," O'Neill replied.

"I guess I can do that," John agreed. He saved his report and signed off the computer.

"Lam has him in an isolation room in the infirmary," O'Neill went on. "Most of the Sentinels on the base have talked to him, and you're about the only one that hasn't."

"What will you do if he doesn't come out of it soon?" John asked as they went down the elevator to the infirmary floor.

O'Neill shrugged. "Call Blair Sandburg and ask for consult," O'Neill shrugged. "Hope it doesn't come to that."

John just thought it was interesting that O'Neill -- or at least someone at the SGC -- had direct access to Sandburg. As the Alpha Guide of North America, Sandburg had to be too busy to be concerned about one comatose Guide currently hidden under a mountain in Colorado.

They arrived at the infirmary, and O'Neill asked Dr. Lam, "Any change?"

She shook her head. "Nothing," she replied. "I'm not sure one more Sentinel will make a difference." She looked at John. "No offense."

"None taken," John replied easily. He wasn't really sure why he had agreed to O'Neill's request, except, well, one really never refused any request from O'Neill.

"He's in here," Lam led the way to a room at the end of the row. The blinds were drawn and a white noise generator hummed close by.

"Anyone in there now?" O'Neill asked.

Lam again shook her head. "Colonel Mitchell just left. He sat with the Guide for almost an hour. The best Mitchell could do was to get his vitals to remain stable. I asked him to leave for a bit to see if the vitals would hold, and they seem to be steady at this point."

"That's an improvement," O'Neill agreed. "Sheppard's agreed to make a try."

"Good," she replied. She turned to John. "The goal is to make him feel safe. Talk softly, reassure him and tell him he's in a good place. Touch his arm while you do it. Any of the skills you've been taught about dealing with an unbonded Guide should be fine."

She opened the door to the room to let John go in.

"What's his name?" John asked as a wall of scent hit him hard.

"Meredith," Lam replied. "Meredith McKay."

"R'ney," the man on the bed mumbled.

John ignored the babble of voices behind him, and moved toward the man on the bed.

"Hey!" John said softly. 

"Not Merdth. R'ney," the man asserted.

"R'ney?" John echoed. He could hear the bio sensors beeping madly but ignored them.

John's Sentinel's senses were going _MineMineMineMine_ but he held back, knowing the man before him had been hurt.

"I need some water in here!" John called, without looking away. He moved next to the bed, reached out and placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "Hang on, let's get you something to drink."

John felt more than heard O'Neill come into the room and hand him a bottle of water. 

"Take your time," O'Neill said softly. "I'll keep everyone else out."

John took the bottle, glad to see it was sealed. He heard the door _snick_ shut and they were alone.

"Let me help you sit up," John murmured. "I have some water here."

John sat on the edge of the bed and reached out. He put an arm around the man's shoulders and eased him up. He awkwardly opened the bottle, and held it up for the man to drink.

"Easy," John soothed. "Start small."

After a few swallows, the man was able to sit up better. "Rodney. My name is Rodney."

"Okay, Rodney, good to meet you," John grinned. "My name is John."

John placed his forehead against Rodney's shoulder.

"Sentinel."

"Guide."

Rodney huffed, "Now what?"

"Not going anywhere," John said, sitting straighter. "What do you need?"

"More of that water?" Rodney asked, making a grabby hands movement.

John handed him the bottle. "You've been out for a while," John said. "Take it easy."

Rodney rolled his eyes but eased off on his drinking to take a breath.

"Any chance we can get these things off of me?" Rodney asked, indicated the drip line in his arm and the other electronic attachments.

John took a deep breath. He didn't want anyone else near Rodney at the moment, but knew he should let the docs take care of this.

"Hang on," John said. 

"How are your levels?" Rodney asked in turn.

John ran a quick evaluation of himself. "Good. Better than I've been in a while." He did feel good.

Rodney looked smug. "Then I think we can let the good doctor in."

John went to the door of the room and found O'Neill leaning back in a chair he must had scrounged from somewhere.

" _Your_ Guide?" O'Neill asked, hopefully.

John nodded.

"Good! What do you need?" O'Neill asked.

"Can Dr. Lam take the drip out and the monitors off?" John asked. "And maybe get us both some food?"

"Coffee?" Rodney's voice drifted behind him.

"Not yet," John replied without looking. "Let's talk first."

"Doc and food, coming right up," O'Neill grinned. "Any requests on the food?"

"No citrus, I'm deathly allergic," Rodney called. 

"Got it!" O'Neill replied. He looked at John. "Lam's taking care of a team that just got in, she'll be here as soon as she can."

_In from where?_ John wondered. "Tell her to knock."

"No problem," O'Neill assured him.

John backed into the room and closed the door. He went back to sit on the bed next to Rodney and took his hand.

"No coffee?" Rodney all but whined.

"I don't know what that does to you," John replied.

"I do worse without it," Rodney protested. "I think there's more coffee than blood in my veins."

"Once we get settled," John promised.

"Going to hold you to that," Rodney grinned.

"So, tell me something about yourself," John said.

"Rodney McKay, Ph.D., Ph.D.," Rodney introduced himself. "Okay, technically, Meredith Rodney McKay, but Rodney is what I'll answer to." 

"Two PhDs? What in?" John asked.

"Astrophysics and Mechanical Engineering," Rodney replied, faintly smug, then got a look of horror on his face. "Oh, wait. You better have some brains in there, somewhere. I don't work well with stupid people."

John outright laughed. "I was just getting ready to defend my Ph.D. in Mathematics -- number theory -- when O'Neill scooped me up for this op."

"Oh, I think I'm going to keep you!" Rodney grinned.

"How'd you end up getting kidnapped?" John asked.

"Fucking research partner... just wait until I see him again," Rodney got serious. "I had done all the work on the project, _and_ all the work he was supposed to do. We were arguing about it and he insisted we go to the lab director to 'settle' the issue. As if that would change anything."

Rodney took another sip of water. "We got outside the building and, oh, my god, this is such a cliche, a black van drove up and he pushed me into it. I remember being tasered and then a shot of something in my leg and next thing I know, I'm in a cell. They really didn't do too much, but there were questions about the work we had been doing. and I figured they were looking to steal the entire project."

"What were you working on?" John asked.

Rodney frowned. "Huh. Not sure I can tell you. It was a DOD project, so it's classified at a lot of different levels."

"Not a problem, we'll work that out later," John soothed. 

"Where are we?" Rodney asked. "I know there was a group of soldiers that got me out of wherever that was, but there were too many new people for me to process and since they 'felt' safe, I just let them do their thing."

"Cheyenne Mountain," John replied. If nothing else, Rodney would know where they were when they left the facility.

"Really?" He looked around. "I'm guessing this really isn't NORAD."

John shrugged. "I got nothing there," he admitted. "I passed out in the elevator coming down here and haven't had the tour myself. I've been mostly limited to living quarters and the mess." He frowned. "And the infirmary."

There was a tap on the door before it opened.

"Glad you could join us," Lam said to Rodney. "Let's get you out of this stuff."

"Yes, please," Rodney held out his arm.

Lam deftly removed the port and the equipment, checking Rodney over as she did. 

"Any lingering problems?" she asked.

Rodney shrugged. "Nothing at this point."

"There's some food coming," she said. "I want you both to eat before you think about moving on to bonding."

John nodded. He needed to make sure Rodney was recovered from his kidnapping before he started the bonding process. 

O'Neill himself handed John a tray full of food. "You need anything else?"

"We'll eat and then I'd like to get someplace... more comfortable before we bond," John admitted. "This is okay..." He let that trail off.

"Lam's prepping a bonding room for you," O'Neill informed him. "It'll be ready by the time you finish eating."

"Thanks!" John nodded.

He placed the tray on the bed tray, there weren't too many options in the small room. Rodney was already looking better. 

"Okay, as hungry as I am, I need to piss," Rodney admitted. "And I need to wash up."

"Bathroom right across the way," John said. "It's a Sentinal and Guide suite of rooms, so it has the illusion of being isolated from the rest of the infirmary."

"Good." Someone had put scrubs on Rodney at some point. "Give me five minutes."

John wrinkled his nose. "I'll bet there are clean scrubs in there," he said. "This should keep."

John watched as Rodney went across the corridor to the bathroom. He left Rodney have his privacy as he cleaned up but kept an ear on his heart rate, just... just because he could.

Rodney was back within his promised five minutes, damp around his hair from washing up and in fresh scrubs.

"Better," John approved. He wanted to reach out and just _touch_... but he also knew he wouldn't be able to stop.

John ate steadily as he watched Rodney practically inhale the sandwich he took. 

"God, I was starving," Rodney said as he ate apple pie.

"Not too fast..." John cautioned, automatically. "Don't want your stomach to rebel!"

John almost laughed aloud when Rodney's fork stopped in mid-flight and his eyes dilated in anticipation. 

"Ummm... okay," Rodney said as he thoughtfully chewed the piece of pie and carefully looked John over. "How are you still not bonded?" He swallowed the pie. "No offense, or anything."

John shrugged. "Didn't find anyone I found compatible. And I wasn't going to settle."

"Good for me!" Rodney grinned.

"Me, too," John agreed softly.

Dr. Lam tapped on the door before coming in.

"We have a bonding room set up for you," she said. "If you're ready to move?"

She guided them to the room, which was on the same floor as the infirmary.

"There are extra towels and sweats in the bathroom, supplies in the bedside table, extra bed sheets in the closet, and bottled water and snacks in the mini-fridge," she rattled off. "The phone connects directly to the infirmary, in case you need anything."

"Umm.... thanks?" John asked. 

Then it was just John and Rodney.

"Come here," John said, holding out a hand. While his Sentinel was going _MineMineMine_ , he wanted to move slowly. He and Rodney had just met and, once bonded, would most likely spend the rest of their lives together. But he wanted this to be a partnership... and he had the feeling that Rodney would give as good as he got. 

Rodney took his hand and the _itch_ that John didn't even realize was there went away... to be replaced by a feeling of satisfaction and _home_.

Rodney tugged John toward the bed, where they helped each other out of their clothes. Rodney lay in the middle of the bed and murmured, "John..."

John knew he'd remember more later, but the bonding was a haze of skin and heat and want... he tasted, touched and immersed himself in his Guide... the bond flowing between them until it settled with a _snap_ John could feel.

"Guide."

"Sentinel."

Bonding was more than sex, although it was one of the good parts, John thought. He and Rodney had a chance to talk, exchanging life stories, as well as thoughts of what they would like to do together.

John was amazed at how grounded he was, after two solid days with Rodney. Rodney admitted the same thing to John, feeling more stable than ever.

It was another day before John picked up the phone.

"What can we do for you?"

John said, "We're ready for some real food at this point. Can we get a hot meal delivered?"

"And coffee!" Rodney called.

"And a pot of coffee," John sighed.

"Not a problem. Give us half an hour."

"Thanks."

The smell of hot turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy made John realize how hungry he was. The mess probably dealt with newly bonded pairs regularly, since the portions were almost double sized. John swiped some of Rodney's coffee, mostly because it smelled so good.

By breakfast the next day, John was ready to go out in 'public' with Rodney. And more than ready to get out of the room they were in. He called and was told that General O'Neill wanted to meet with them when they were ready.

John was surprised to see all of SG-1 gathered together. O'Neill introduced Daniel Jackson, Cameron Mitchell and Vala Mal Doran with a vague wave.

Realizing Rodney didn't know anyone, John did a more thorough job of introducing O'Neill and Carter, at which point Carter picked up the introductions O'Neill hadn't done.

"Daniel is our specialist in mythology and Ancient peoples," Carter added. John wondered at the emphasis on 'Ancient' but let it go for the moment.

John sat back for a moment and scanned the others in the room. There was a level of anticipation that he had not expected. He focused on Vala Mal Doran.

"You're... different," he decided.

She grinned triumphantly at him. "Told you he was smart," she said. She leaned forward and said, "What if I said I wasn't from Earth?"

John considered. "I think I'd believe you." He looked at O'Neill.

O'Neill nodded. "Daniel, I think you're up." He looked at John and Rodney and said, "What do you know about the lost city of Atlantis?"


End file.
